


Sage Green Shirt

by AnchoredTether



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:51:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnchoredTether/pseuds/AnchoredTether
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Lydia get into the routine of study sleepovers, but when Lydia forgets a shirt and has to borrow one from Stiles, the two end up confronting their emotions in a way they’d never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sage Green Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt from an anon:  
> "Can you write a fanfic where Lydia spends the night at Stiles’ place (as friends (maybe studying), then she doesn’t have time to get home and change so she has to wear siles’s shirt… All of their friends think something happend that night so Allison talks to Stiles abaut Lydias fellings for him -that Lydia loves him and that she-Alison is happy for them (except she doesnt know that nothing happend). Then he talks to Lydia about what Allison told him and they confess their love for eachother"

"I’ve been looking at bones for so long I’m certain I could never become an anthropologist." Stiles sighed. Finals were quickly approaching and the biology test covered a lot of material that Stiles had barely studied with the recent events of Jennifer and surrogate sacrificing. He didn’t have much motive to study human anatomy when he was too busy dying and resurrecting himself. 

As if it were a yawn that were contagious, Lydia sighed as well, the sound charming and melancholic. “How about we go over the skull again?”

"How about…we order pizza instead?" Stiles mused. 

Lydia shot him a look. “Why is that when I’m at a guy’s house they only want food or…” She bit her lip, making a clicking noise with her mouth as she awkwardly looked back over at her textbook.

Stiles resisted to wiggle his eyebrows. “Food or… _what?_  Lydiaaa.” His tone was teasing, his lips turning into a downward smirk.

"Besides, don’t you think 11:30 at night is a bit late for a meal?" She smoothly diverted the question, twirling a finger around a lock of strawberry blonde hair. 

Stiles scoffed. “There’s no such thing as a time that’s too late for  _food_.” He looked down at his phone. “Do you want pizza or would you rather have sandwiches? Or Chinese food, even.” 

"I thought we were studying, not on a date." Lydia remarked without lifting her eyes from the books in front of her. 

"Doooo….you want it to be a date? I could make that happen. I mean, if you want." His voice was hopeful, his eyebrows raised, almost pleading.

Lydia pursed her lips together for a moment before looking over at Stiles with a vacancy in her eyes. “I’m already spending the night, Stiles. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression.” Lydia had spent the night at the Stilinskis a few times as Stiles’ study partner, since they would stay up till ungodly hours and Lydia’s mom didn’t want her driving home that late at night. It was a quickly accustomed routine for the both of them, and neither of them thought more of it beyond mutual benefaction as friends.

Yet the corner of Lydia’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “But we’ve still got a lot left to cover, so getting some food would actually be smart. Pizza sounds great. I’ll pay for half.” She smiled placidly and returned her gaze to her notes.

 _It was progress_ , Stiles thought.

 

 

—-

 

 

Several hours later, with an empty pizza box and notes scattered all over the floor, Lydia suddenly diverted her attention away from the studying with a question thrown at Stiles during a long stretch of silence.

"How are you handling the surrogate sacrifice?"

Stiles looked up at her, his eyes startled as the question felt like she threw a brick at him. His eyes became downcast and his lips parted slowly as he tried to think of a response, but Lydia cut in, her tone revered.

"I talked to Allison about it, and I was just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to talk about it." She suddenly felt bad for bringing it up because she knew how intimate of a discussion it was with Allison.

"No it’s alright, it just…caught me off guard is all." Stiles muttered, clearing his throat. "Well…Deaton said it would feel like our hearts were surrounded by darkness…and I get that feeling. It’s like…this constant dread that something bad is going to happen, that what Scott, Allison, and I did was in vain because people are going to keep dying, even the ones we were trying to protect. I constantly get this feeling that  _I’m not safe_ …like there’s someone in my shadow who will strike out and hurt everyone I love…and that I will be spared long enough to suffer the death of everyone as I’m helpless to do anything.” 

When Stiles looked back up at Lydia her face was broken in an empathetic sadness, her brows creased in worry. “I’m sorry…” She took a shaky breath before continuing. “If it’s any consolation, I kind of understand… apparently I’m a banshee and I’m supposed to predict death, but…all I’ve done thus far is find the bodies. I feel so helpless at times that I’m scared one of these days the body I find will be Allison’s, or Scott’s….or  _your’s._ ” She shook her head forlornly. “I don’t want that to happen.”

Stiles was starting to understand why Deaton said Lydia should be the one to pull Stiles back. He still wasn’t sure what exactly, but there was something between them that tied them together. “It’s alright…” He replied softly. “I think there’s a lot of things that are beyond our control. Don’t feel responsible for every death you come across, Lydia. It’s not your fault.”

She froze at his words, her eyes softening in appreciation. She smiled painfully. “I’ll try.”

 

 

—-

 

 

As Stiles tried to shuffle all his notes back together, Lydia kept returning to her backpack, rummaging her hands through its contents, then continued pacing around his room frantically, looking under furniture and huffing in annoyance. “What’s wrong, you’re making me nervous.” Stiles spat, his voice groggy. 

"I could have  _sworn_  I brought a shirt to change into -” She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “It was sage green, I remember picking it out, and I can’t find it anywhere in here.” 

Stiles looked at her with an arched brow. “I have a sage green shirt you could borrow.”

She stopped in her tracks, then looked at him as if he just proposed to her. Then she gave him a scowl. “I doubt you even know what sage green  _looks_  like.”

Stiles rolled his eyes in response before pulling a shirt out his dresser and tossing it at the strawberry blonde. She held it up as if to verify the color would match her complexion. She hummed happily. “You  _do_  know what sage green looks like. Since when did you learn colors?”

Stiles shrugged. “I guess I picked up on some of the things you say.” 

Lydia smiled wistfully before uttering a “Thank you” and leaving to use the bathroom.

 

 

—-

 

 

Lydia slept in his bed, while Stiles wrapped himself in a sleeping bag on the floor on the opposite side of the room. He defensively said to Lydia that he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor since he used to do it with Scott all the time, and he claimed the couch downstairs was uncomfortable anyhow. He also didn’t like the idea of her being alone, what with recent events and all. Lydia still wasn’t buying it, but she thought it was nice to have Stiles in the room with her as if to protect her. In all honesty, Lydia felt safer in Stiles’ room than she did anywhere else.

It wasn’t until Stiles broke the silent slumber with his screaming that Lydia thought they were in danger. 

Stiles was sitting upright, clutching his sleeping bag and breathing heavy. Lydia quickly bolted out of his bed to stand near him. “What? What happened?”

He started to get a grip on his breathing, exhaling heavily as he looked up at her with traces of panic in his eyes. “It was just a nightmare…go back to bed, Lydia.”

Before she could protest, the Sheriff walked in, his face stricken with worry. “Is everything alright?” 

"Sorry dad, it was just a nightmare. I’m fine." Stiles breathed. "No worries."

John looked at him for a moment to make sure he wasn’t faking it, and saw that his son was breathing normally again and not slipping into a panic attack. He nodded once, his voice tender. “Ok. You come wake me up if you need anything.” 

Stiles nodded, then looked up at Lydia once his dad left. “Lydia, don’t worry, I’m fine.”

"The hell you are." She blundered, plopping down cross-legged in front of him. "The only person I’ve heard scream like that is me, and I’m a  _banshee_.” She placed a frail hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

"It’s just nightmares." Stiles said dismissively, his tone borderline annoyed. "I’ll just go back to sleep and I’ll be fine. You need to go back to sleep too."

"Stiles - stop denying the problem." Her green eyes were fierce, but concerned all the same. "What was your nightmare about? Tell me. The more you talk about it, the less real it’ll seem."

He huffed, submitting to her authoritative voice. “I keep having this dream where I see Allison is all cut up, bleeding all over, her eyes glazed and lifeless, and then…I find you, and you’re screaming but no sound comes out….and then I see my dad and he tells me  _'it was you'_ , to which I look over and see…that you’re lying dead on the ground completely maimed as well….and my hands are covered in blood and as I trudge through freezing water, opening door after door after door, they always lead back to the Nemeton. One of the doors leads me to Scott, who looks terrified, repeatedly telling me  _'this isn't you', 'this isn't you'_ …then I look over at a mirror to find I’m completely covered in blood, to hear my own voice whisper  _'this is you'_ …and I turn to find myself, a second me, stabbing Scott with a katana…and that’s when I wake up.” 

His eyes were terrified, his breaths coming in short. Lydia looked at him in alarm, but quickly masked her fear with sympathy, giving him a pained smile. “See? That sounds ridiculous. You’d never hurt any of us. Which means it could only be a nightmare, nothing more.” 

Stiles stared off into nothing. “I suppose so.” 

Lydia patted him on the shoulder before standing up and going back to his bed. “You’ll be fine. And we’ll be fine. You wouldn’t hurt any of us, I promise.” She pulled the covers up and looked at Stiles one last time before whispering, “Good night, Stiles.”

When Stiles looked over at Lydia, her eyes were closed, her long lashes elegant in the pale moonlight. He looked at her with a yearning in his eyes before lying back down, smiling softly at her comforting words as he slipped into sleep.

 

 

—-

 

 

The next day carried out in its normal routine, and when lunch time rolled around, the pack was talking about the surrogate sacrifices and whether or not Stiles, Scott, and Allison were stuck in some type of limbo between life and death. To Stiles, it seemed like a normal day.

When a pause came up in the conversation, Lydia was rummaging through her purse when she exclaimed, “Oh! Stiles, I almost forgot.” She pulled out a bundle of neatly folded sage green cloth and held it across the table to him. “Here’s your shirt. I washed it this morning.”

Scott, Allison, and Isaac couldn’t decide who to stare at with a stronger expression of disbelief, and it was causing Stiles to turn red. He casually took the shirt from her and muttered a “Thanks, Lydia.” The table was oddly quiet, but Lydia acted like she didn’t notice, pulling out some lipstick and reapplying the color.

Luckily a girl came over to the table and started talking, completely averting everyone’s attention from what just happened. As the girl - who Scott introduced was Kira - sat down next to Stiles and conversed with them about death and bardo, he couldn’t ever feel more grateful for her distraction.  

 

 

—-

 

 

When it was time for math, Stiles sat next to Allison as usual, since she was the only one he knew in the class. They had a minute before the bell would ring, when Allison playfully punched Stiles’ arm and leaned in, her eyes bright and mischievous. “You know I’m really glad Lydia  _finally_  opened up to you.” She said with a smile, and Stiles had to do a double take to make sure he was hearing her right. “It’s about time she went for a guy who actually cared about her.”

Stiles blinked a few times. “What do you mean by that?”

Allison shrugged as if it were obvious. “Exactly what it sounds like. Lydia’s loved you for a while now, and I’ve been waiting for her to do something about it. But I’m sure you know all about that already.” She gave a playful smile, offering him a wink. “You guys don’t need to be shy about it, we all know what’s going on.” 

Stiles weakly smiled at her as he screamed internally, his heart skyrocketing. Now that he properly thought about it, he figured that Lydia handing him his shirt displayed a completely different message at the lunch table, especially since no one knew he and Lydia started doing study sleepovers. Allison might have known, but he knew Scott and Isaac certainly didn’t. Lydia was also quite thorough when it came to being independent and not having to rely on guys for help, so forgetting a shirt and having to borrow one of his seemed unlike her. It was no wonder everyone assumed something completely different.

Then he remembered that Allison said Lydia loved him, and  _had for a while_. That was definitely news to him. It caused his face to light up as he gave Allison the most smitten grin she had ever seen. “I suppose we don’t.” Stiles intended such.

 

 

—-

 

 

"Can I talk to you? In private?" Stiles asked Lydia at her locker after school. She looked slightly startled, but mostly confused as she looked up at him.

"Yeah…sure. Why?"

He let out an exhale of held tension and grabbed her hand, not caring if anyone saw since they thought they were official as it was. He pulled her outside and led her to his Jeep, opening the passenger door for her. He knew Scott and Isaac were stubborn with their super hearing, and he wanted this conversation to be totally private.

"Stiles, why can’t we just talk at the school?" She wondered as he settled in the driver’s seat, revving his car to life and driving away from the school.

"Because when I said I wanted to talk to you in private, I meant it."

Lydia made an ‘ah’ face as she stared out the window a moment, before turning to look at him. “I’m sorry about today…I wasn’t thinking, and everyone assumed that…”

"I know. And it’s alright. That’s partially what I wanted to talk to you about." 

"When Allison asked me about it I was aloof, acting like I didn’t know what they were talking about." She said quickly, and Stiles thought he could hear concern in her voice. "I didn’t confirm anything happened, but I didn’t deny anything either because I didn’t want to…make things worse, I guess."

Stiles frowned. He appreciated that sentiment. He pulled off the side of the road where they were now in the forest, turning off the ignition and turning to look at her. “Walk with me?”

Lydia stared at him a moment, confused at what was happening. “Sure.” She said with a slight nod and they both got out to walk through the trees. It was calm and quiet out here, and Stiles knew there would be no annoying teenage werewolf friends leaking into their conversation. He felt his shoulders relax at that thought, but then when he realized that the time had come to confront Lydia, the butterflies began to violently ram against the walls of his stomach.

"Lydia…would….would you have rather confirmed their assumptions?" 

The strawberry blonde froze, and Stiles had to stop walking to turn and face her. She looked up at him nervously, her lips wavering ever so slightly. “What…what do you mean?”

Stiles exhaled through his nose, bouncing his weight from one foot to the other in anxiety. His lips pressed together as he tried to figure out a better way to phrase this, any of this, but the eloquence wasn’t happening. 

He took a step closer to her and gently held her shoulders as he looked down into her beautiful hazel-green eyes that matched the surrounding forest so perfectly. “Allison thought we were together, because…because she said you loved me….that you have loved me for a while.” His eyes narrowed in speculation, thinking it couldn’t be true, but his warm earthy hues shined with hope. “Is that true?”

Lydia looked up at him with the expression of a kid caught red-handed as they reached into the cookie jar. She breathed softly, her eyes watering as her long lashes blinked to try and keep the tears back. “ _No_ …” She said it so softly but it was deafeningly loud to Stiles. He flinched as if she just shot him, his hands slowly releasing their grip on her shoulders and falling to his sides. 

Before Stiles could drown in the despair, Lydia stepped closer and grabbed his hands, entwining her short fingers into his long ones. His eyes were confused and hurt, but Lydia looked up at him with admiration, a happy tear sliding down her left cheek. 

"No Stiles…I haven’t loved you for a while…" Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. "I’ve loved you for  _much longer than that_.” 

He gasped softly as the confirmation hit him like a punch to the stomach, his eyes widening in surprise and pleasure, as he released a shaky laugh in disbelief. “How - how long? Exactly?” 

Lydia smiled, her answer plain. “Ever since Jackson spilled to me it was _you_  who saved me from Peter. And you don’t have to tell me your answer. I already know. 3rd grade.” 

Stiles laughed, squeezing her hands within his own. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” If she knew he loved her and she loved him, what caused her hesitation? His eyes were curious, but the gleeful smile never left his features.

"I…I don’t know. I was  _scared_.” Lydia remarked with a soft huff. “I’ve never actually, truly, and deeply  _loved_  someone before, for who they are. I’ve never opened my heart up to someone like this, and I know your heart is already opened up to me, and I’m just scared that…that I’ll only hurt you. I don’t know how to love someone, Stiles.”

His eyes softened fondly. “That’s just it, Lydia. You love someone by putting their needs before your own, and you clearly have already done that when you feared hurting me.” He released her hands, pulling his left arm around her waist to draw her in close, his right hand stroking a strand of warm cinnamon hair out of her face to cup the side of her cheek. He stared at her affectionately, taking in all her beauty. “I love you, Lydia.”

"I love you too." There was no hesitation in her voice, but it wavered slightly as if she couldn’t believe the confession left her lips. Her eyes darted from the boy’s amber eyes to his lips and back again as she lifted her hands to caress around his neck. 

The two were stuck in a stalemate as they stared at each other for a moment, but then the both of them leaned in to lock into each other’s lips. Just like their first kiss during his panic attack, Stiles still felt just as startled by the sweet taste of her mouth, but slowly eased comfortably into her shape, pulling her closer. Lydia felt like she would never get enough of him, as if this wasn’t even real and she had to make the most of it before it was over and she woke up from her dream. 

When they finally pulled apart, looking at each other with a depth that wasn’t entirely there before, the corner of Stiles’ lips pulled into a playful smile. “Do you want to borrow another one of my shirts?”

Lydia laughed softly, looking at him in awe as if it were the first time. “Yes, I would.” She leaned in to kiss him again with a smile.

 

 


End file.
